In her Icy Embrace
by WingsofRequiem
Summary: A young man with peculiar powers finds himself near-death, from which the Ice Queen takes him from. At first, Lissandra simply wishes to use him for her own goals. But after they find out the extent of his powers, new doors are opened. Will the ice around Lissandra's heart finally melt for this young explorer? OC x Lissandra, Rated M for language, future lemons, kawaiiness and ice.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys; welcome to another story of mine.**

**So, I know I was supposed to write a Vayne x Vladimir story, but I had no idea on how to begin that. And then, an idea hit me harder than a crossbow bolt could, and trust me, that's quite effing hard.**

**So I've started this Lissandra x OC story and I hope you'll all find it interesting.**

**Hope you enjoy the chapter - Wings.**

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**Story Name: In her Icy Embrace**

**Rated: M for future Lemons, vulgar language, graphical depictions.**

**Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance.**

**Summary: A young man with peculiar powers finds himself near-death, from which the Ice Queen takes him from. At first, Lissandra simply wishes to use him for her own goals. But after they find out the extent of his powers, new doors are opened. Will the ice around Lissandra's heart finally melt for this young explorer?**

**Pairing: OC x Lissandra**

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**In her Icy Embrace**

**Prologue**

'_My name is Alan Frost. Today, I will be a member of the expedition group from Piltover that heads to the north, deep into Freljord. We will be going farther north than anyone has ever gone. Even though this trip is extremely dangerous, I'm not doing this for the gold they've offered us on return or for the glory of exploring the unknown. I'm going there to sate my own curiousity, the explore places no one else has ever stepped upon. If I die or do not return, all I ask is to not be forgotten. On behalf of everyone going with me, I ask that those of us who do not return be remembered."_

He sighed as he put down his pen, not knowing what else to write. Glancing up, he saw that he had two hours to prepare. He got off the seat at his desk, walking around his room to the large bag he had placed upon his bed, already full with supplies. He finally took a look at his reflection in the mirror embedded into his wardrobe's door.

His platinum blonde hair, appearing snow-white or silver to most eyes, appeared as bedraggled as always, like the ruffled feathers of a bird. His eyes were icy blue, with flecks of silver in them that he always noticed. His skin was, as usual, stubbornly staying pale no matter how much time he had spent in the sun. He wore a dark blue hoodie, zipped up the front over a white t-shirt. A pair of fitting jeans covered his legs, leading down to a pair of belted up black boots, his hands covered by a similar pair of gloves, albeit fingerless. He was ready to hike through the coldest of places.

2 hours later, he was sitting in one of Piltover's aerial transports along with 5 other hikers. The other explorers were fluffed up with layer-upon-layer of clothing to fight the bitter cold of the north. They were staring at Alan like he was stupid, wearing little to nothing when compared to them. But this was a weird part of Alan's life. For some reason, the cold never affected him. He dive into icy ponds in the middle of winter without any clothes on and not even shiver. He never got frost burns nor did he ever feel the need to warm himself. The heat didn't bother him that much either, though he did feel it to an extent.

5 years back, when he was a youth of 19, he had been sitting outside while it was snowing. He had been in a bad mood, feeling desolated and helpless after his lover had left him after a 2 year long relationship, built on trust and love. He had laid outside like that, wanting to be as cold as the grief inside of him but feeling nothing except the tell-tale cold tingles of the snowflakes falling upon his bared arms and face. After perhaps hours of lying, he focused on his surroundings and found that the snowflakes falling from the sky were all spinning around him. Not like a twister, no, but like a slow spiral, twisting around him as they fell, drawn closer to him. Already, a small circular wall of snow had gathered around him, a perfect radius of 2 ft all around him. But as soon as he had noticed it, the snow had fallen back to it's regular pattern.

He had then spent a lot of time focusing and, with a lot of time spent on trying to harness it, he managed to find out that he could manipulate snow to an extent. But he could only direct the fall of snow as it fell from the sky, or lower the temperature around him. He never practiced further than that.

His mind came out of such memories when the craft jostled him, the large doors opening to reveal the endless expanse of white infront of them. They had arrived in Freljord.

…

It was 8 days into the expedition and the group had already traveled further north than anyone had ever gone. Up here, there was a perpetual blizzard going on, with visibility reduced so they couldn't see more than 5 feet around them. They all had a long rope tied around their waists, with 3 feet of rope inbetween them as they slowly trudged through the rope.

"Guys, the ground doesn't feel solid to me…" One guy behind Alan said.

"It's in your head, man. The blizzard's givin' ya vertigo." Another one, this guy infront of Alan, spoke up as Alan focused on his feet as he took the next step. As his feet landed, the ground held…. Then shifted down just an inch.

"Guys, he's right, the grou-" As Alan was speaking out his warning, the ground suddenly cracked, the sound of the ice shattering piercing through the sound of the wind like gunshots. A second of tense silence passed, no one breathing.

Then the ground shattered all around them, falling inwards. Alan heard his own scream over everyone else's screams as they fell. He felt the ground hit him; they had hit a slope, and now they were all rolling down the slope, hitting and rolling over each other, the ropes pulling and tugging on them. Then a rock slammed into Alan's head and everything went black.

…

Warmth… No… Cold? No, not that either. He couldn't feel cold. But he felt… comfortable? As soon as he was aware of his body, dull pain throbbed up his entire body, most noticeably in his chest and head as he groaned. His eyes opened slowly, everything appearing blurry at first. Slowly, his vision sharpened as he found himself within some sort of cave made completely of ice. He realized that he could see in a cave which should be completely dark. Turning his head, he found a large blue crystal jutting out of the ground, providing light inside the cave. He also realized he was on a sofa. Why was there a sofa in a cave of ice?

"So, you're awake?" A feminine voice, high and cold, spoke from one side of the room. With a grunt of pain, Alan looked over to the other side of the room, where a tall woman dressed in blue robes stood at the threshold of the cave, infront of what appeared to be a branch heading deeper into the cave. Now that he thought about it, he didn't see any opening in the cave aside from the one where the woman was standing at, so he assumed he was deep inside the cave already.

He inspected the woman. She wore blue robes that reached past her feet, trailing behind her. The robe had metallic pieces of armor covering her shoulder and waist, dark blue gloves covering her hands. Her head had a weird but ornate mask/helmet covering most of it, revealing only the bottom part of her face as well as around her collarbone. Her skin was of a pale blue coloration, like she had been frozen over.

"Ugh… Who… Where am…" Alan muttered, feeling groggy as the pain throbbed all over his body when he tried to move.  
"You're in my lair, human. I found you and your little hikers walking on thin ice, which happened to be the ceiling of a cavern. As expected, it shattered and you all fell in the avalanche that followed. When I came upon your crash site 2 hours later, I found every human but they had already died and frozen up. All except you. You looked fine, although you were quite bashed up." Her voice was cold and smooth, like ice itself. She began pacing around the room as she spoke again, "So I was curious and wanted some answers. Seeing no one else who could provide them to me, I took you. I patched your wounds up so that you may wake to answer my questions." She said.

"Uh… Okay…. What?" Alan murmured, his head still hurting with each heartbeat, uncomprehending. He reached up to feel the part of his head which was hurting, the top right part of his forehead, and found it covered with a large pad of cotton. There was also snow under the cotton, pressed against his wound, as he felt the tingle of cold under it now.

"You got a bit banged up as you fell, but not like the others in your group. I found one had been strangled by the cord around his waist."

"Wait… Everyone is… Dead?" Alan asked, that fact finally piercing through his muddled thoughts. The woman, her face appearing emotionless under the mask, nodded. There was a mannequin in the corner of the room, infront of which the woman walked to… No, walk was the wrong word. With the subtle elegance she had and the way she held herself up, she almost appeared to glide over to the mannequin. Once there, she began unhooking the armored pieces of her robe off, beginning with the shoulder guard as she spoke, "Now… Who are you?"

"I'm… Alan. Alan Frost." He answered, staring at the backside of the woman, watching her very long white pair, which was tied into a braid, sway at her waist level as she unhooked both of her shoulder guards, placing them upon the mannequin's shoulders. With her shoulders bared, Alan saw more of her pale blue skin. The dark gloves, which reached up to where her shoulder guards were, came off next, pulled off in a practiced, fluid motion, exposing more of her light blue skin.

"Frost… How fitting." She said, her voice holding a bit of irony as she put the gloves down infront of the mannequin. As she began to unclasp the armor piece around her stomach and waist, she asked, "Where are you from and what is your business here, Alan?"

She spoke his name like she didn't trust him yet. Ofcourse she didn't.

"I'm from Piltover." Alan said, grunting in effort and pain as he forced himself up into a sitting position, the light blanket which had been placed over him falling off. He saw that he didn't have his jacket. It was probably torn up from the fall, now that he thought about it. "I came here… With others, to explore this part of the north."

"Really?" She asked, her tone sarcastic as she clasped the armorpiece onto the mannequin. She didn't take her helmet off, however, as she turned around to face him with a smile on her face. She looked downright sinister as she slowly glided over to her. "So you're from Piltover, are you?" She asked, her voice menacing as Alan suddenly felt uneasy at her presence.

With a sudden motion of her arms, which suddenly began glowing light blue from her fingertips, fading as they reached up to her elbows, she flung several icicles at him, conjured up from thin air. Alan let out a yelp as they all soared past his head, barely touching him as they exploded on the wall a few feet behind him.

"Speak the truth, boy. Who sent you?" She asked, as she gestured with her hand again, this one less aggressive. But a large icicle formed in front of her, floating in midair, the sharp end pointed directly at him. "Or this one isn't going to miss."

"I told you the truth, what the hell!?" Alan shouted, wincing as the pain in his head throbbed. He noticed the movement infront of him though as he dived to the right side of the sofa he was on, the icicle suddenly burying itself where he had been moments ago.

"Wrong answer!" The woman said as she fired another icicle at him with a swipe of her hands. He dived to the other side of the couch, but not fast enough as this one skimmed his right shoulder, cutting a crimson line. He hissed in pain, adrenaline causing him to forget the pain in his body as he tried to got off the couch and ran to the side of the room, dodging more icicles in the process. He turned around and his eyes widened as he saw a huge hand of ice suddenly erupt out of the ground, grabbing him and pinning him against the wall. He screamed in pain as it pressed down on him, the woman gliding over so she was just infront of him. The hand held him, but didn't press down, as he watched a hole form in the middle of the icy hand in horror, exposing his torso. Ice formed around the woman's right hand, ending in a sharp point as she hovered it over his chest, only a few inches of flesh and blood separating the cold ice from his rapidly beating heart. He stared at her with wide eyes as she hissed at him, "Last chance… Who was it boy?"

Alan stared at her, breathing hard from the pain and the fear of his impending death. "You're insane." He said, his eyes staring hard at her. If he was going to die, he was gonna die with dignity. The ice descended upon him, but he didn't flinch. It stopped, barely touching his shirt as Alan held his breath. The woman stared at him, eyes hidden due to her mask so he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Then, she straightened up, the ice falling away from her hand as the huge hand released it's hold on him, sinking back into the floor.

"It seems you really are telling the truth…" She said, turning around as she began walking away from him. As soon as Alan remembered to breathe again, he registered the fact that she was walking away from him. Anger rushed up inside of him. "Hey, wait a minute!" He said angrily, reaching for her hand. The woman noticed and suddenly jumped away from him, screaming, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

A shockwave of power seemed to emanate from the woman as she screamed, shoving Alan back as she momentarily forgot his anger at her sudden reaction. She was gripping the wrist of the arm he was about to grab, holding both her arms close to her chest. "Don't touch me…. You'll get burned." She said in a low voice, a trace of sorrow in her voice.

"Well then don't try to walk out of here without giving me a few answers then, especially considering the fact that you saved my life just to try and kill me again." Alan said, the last of his fear melting away as anger came forth.  
The woman's lips thinned, but then she said, "Tch, fine. What questions does your puny mortal mind ponder?"

Alan faltered, not actually knowing where to begin. He narrowed his eyes, the icy blue eyes focused on the masked woman infront of him.  
"For starters, you can tell me what you are and where I am." He said, crossing his arms as he gingerly walked back to the couch, which was like 2 steps away, and sat down, sighing in relief. The woman slowly walked over, sitting herself down on the lounge chair opposite of the sofa and then said, "I'm known as Lissandra, True Queen of Freljord."

Alan raised an eyebrow, "I can't say I've heard of you."  
Lissandra's blue lips curled up into a smile, "That's exactly what we want."  
"We? Who's this 'We'?" He asked.  
" 'We' are the iceborns, the true rulers of the Freljord, having lived here for centuries in slumber." Lissandra stated, not explaining further than that.

"Why are you wearing… that… Whatever it is?" Alan asked, gesturing at his own head in an attempt to shape-out the mask that Lissandra wore.  
"None of your business. Next question?" She stated curtly, her tone letting him know that there would be no further discussion about that. Alan raised an eyebrow but didn't pry.  
"You haven't answered my question about where I am." He said as Lissandra gave a sigh, agitated. "I've already told you, you're in my lair."

"And where would that be?"  
"To the farthest north that your mortal mind can comprehend, past the Howling Abyss, which, if I may add, was where you and your friends fell to your doom. Well, except you. You survived, whether by stroke of luck or pure chance. It's a hundred degrees under zero down there, so I've got no idea why you didn't freeze either." Lissandra said, curiousity taking a place in her mind as she pondered that small fact, tilting her head to the side.

"The cold doesn't bother me." Alan said casually, shrugging. Lissandra kept staring at him, not getting the literal meaning of his sentence.  
"If you don't mind me asking… Why did you freak out when I reached out to grab you?" Alan asked, eyebrows furrowing as he watched Lissandra pulled her arms closer to her self-consciously.

"Iceborn cannot touch mortals. Not without causing the human searing pain from frost burn. It's also quite painful for us as well ." Lissandra said in a lower-than-usual tone, obviously dissatisfied with that fact.  
Now Alan was the one feeling curious. He had a sudden urge to reach over and touch her while she was distracted, obviously thinking of something. But he pushed it down before saying, "Is the blizzard still raging on?"

Lissandra perked her head up at him when she realized he had asked her something. Then, she nodded, "Yes. It's gotten worse, even my Iceborn was forced back in. Visibility has fallen to near blindness. I do not think you can go back in this situation." She said as Alan sighed, shaking his head at his bad luck.  
"How long do these things last?"

"Here in the Freljord, they can last for weeks."

"Great."  
"Even if it wasn't storming outside, I do not think I would allow you to go right now." Lissandra said, causing Alan to raise an eyebrow.  
"Uh.. Why is that?"

"You're badly injured and because I have taken you into my abode, you are also under my hospitality. It would be poor hospitality if I let you go out on your own with a few broken ribs and a cracked head." Lissandra stated as Alan's eyes widened, looking down at his chest, which ached dully. So that's why he was hurting so bad when the muscles in that area stretched.

"Oh… Oh..." Alan murmured, poking his injury gingerly, hissing as he poked it too hard.  
"Stop that." Lissandra chastised as Alan stopped, the last of his adrenaline wearing off as the full force of how sore he was hit him again. His face fell as he groaned, slowly lying back down on the sofa. "I think… I think I'm gonna get some more shuteye…" He muttered as Lissandra nodded. "I shall leave you here then." She said, before walking to one side of the room. Alan noticed that the flat ice on the wall he had first thought was just a wall actually held a door, which Lissandra opened with a simple push with her hands. Gliding inside, the doors closed behind her, moments before his own eyes closed. The next few weeks would have to be spent in here… Wherever 'here' was. Alan knew that whatever happened, it was going to be nothing short of interesting.

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**So, what do you think of the story so far? Please leave your thoughts and comments on the story in the reviews below. You don't need an account to review here, so be sure to say whatever you want to say. Just don't be rude, no one likes an ass unless it's me [I'm an awesome ass].  
**  
**Cheers  
- Wings.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone and welcome back to another chapter of this story.**

**I must say, I didn't expect such a response from so many people. Looks like a Lissandra story was really expected, eh? Ah well, I'll try not to disappoint and I'd like to thank all of you for taking the time to review.**

**Now, whether you're a regular reader of my stories or someone who doesn't know me aside from me being the writer of this story, I have a news to share. It's also on my profile.  
Basically, I'm going through alot of personal problems involving my education and future exams so I might be very very infrequent on updating.**

**Anyway, enjoy the story.**

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**In her Icy Embrace**

**Chapter 1: How he held.**

Everything was black, until, slowly but surely, his consciousness returned. Alan opened his eyes hesitantly, blinking a couple of times to clear his vision of the residual blurriness of sleep. Focusing on the ceiling, he realized he was still on the sofa he had fallen asleep in. Getting up, he winced. The pain in his head had dissipated, but his ribs gave a dull throb of pain, protesting him getting up.

Looking around the room, his eyes landed on the section of wall which was actually a door. Now that he wasn't as distracted by pain as he was before, he realized that the walls and ceilings of the cave, although recognizable as being part of a cave, was too flawless in some ways to be considered natural. The doorways and walls were nearly all flawlessly flat and strong, the floor smooth like marble. Only the ceiling was bumpy and random, like the ceiling of a normal cave, minus any stalactites. Everything was colored in a light blue/cyan theme, including most of the furniture, some of which was outright white. Light was emanating from various dark blue crystals around the room, bathing the room in white light instead of blue light that its appearance hinted at.

Standing up, Alan took a few moments to make sure his entire body was awake and responding properly before beginning to walk out of the room, eager to explore this new place he was in. Outside of the room he was in, he found a long corridor. The room he had come out of was at one end of the corridor, so a long hallway stretched out infront of him. He began walking down the length of the corridor, noticing random closed doors here and there. Every now and then, a new hallway branched off of the main one that he was in, but he stuck to the one he was traversing in. The last thing he needed was to get lost here.

He found a door which was cracked open a bit and walked up to it, leaning forward to peek through the crack. He didn't really manage to see anything within the room, and as he was trying to get a better viewing angle, the door suddenly opened. Alan jumped at the sudden appearance of another person on the other side of the door, who also started at Alan's sudden appearance.

"By the ancients, boy, what are you doing?" A man asked him. The man had light blue skin, similar to how that woman, Lissandra's skin was. He wore dark blue armor, large plates of blue colored ice making up most of the heavy armor. The man also looked a bit intimidating in an athletic way. He was 2 inches taller than Alan, who was a good 6 feet, and had a muscular yet lean figure. His armor hid most of his body, but his face, smooth as it was, carried an expression that only veterans could show. A large scar went across his face, from the top corner of his left eyebrow to the bottom of his jaw on the right side of his face, over his nose. His eyes were a very dark shade of blue and his hair was, as expected, white.

"Er, Sorry, I was just curious." Alan said sheepishly as the man looked him up and down. "You're that human that her majesty rescued from the avalanche." The man stated as Alan's brows furrowed at the term 'her majesty' before he nodded. Was she really a queen?

"Yeah, that's me. Name's Alan." Alan said, feeling slightly uncomfortable from the way the man was staring at him, like a predator studying it's prey.

" Manners? You must be an outsider to the Freljord. I wouldn't expect anything from the Barbarian clans except to simply grunt and swing something heavy, and her majesty would just torture and kill anyone from the Avarosans instead of taking them under her hospitality." The man said, giving him a once-over again. "My name is Reinhart and I'm Queen Lissandra's Congelate Elite." He introduced, as Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Congelate Elite?" Alan inquired, slowly pronouncing the first word so as to get it right.  
"Yes. Basically, it means I'm leading her royal guard as well as her army. You could say I'm her second-in-command." He said, now losing the predatory glean in his eyes, looking at Alan in a skeptical view now. "How are your ribs?"

Alan half-shrugged, "They've been better. Sore and hurts every now and then, but atleast it's no longer debilitating." He said as Reinhart gave a smile, although with his appearance, it seemed frigid. Pun not intended.

"Well, look around all you want, just don't go running into every room without knocking first. Also, avoid touching any dark ice. You'll burn yourself." Reinhart said, using the forefinger on his right hand to tap a large dark-ice plate on the front of his armor. "Try not to get skin-on-skin contact with other Iceborn as well. It burns us both and although it's not a lasting injury, it's quite painful." Reinhard said, clapping Alan on the shoulder. Reinhart's hand was covered by his gauntlet and Alan's t-shirt was another layer over his skin, so Alan didn't feel burned. Reinhart really had meant it when he said skin-on-skin, so with a last nod at Alan, Reinhart walked off, his large blue cape swishing out behind him.

Alan watched the man go before looking inside the room that Reinhart had come out from. It seemed to be sort of a huge training room. Alan's eyebrows shot up when he thought about how big their cave must be. The entire room was the size of a football field, with a lot of iceborn training here and there. There were a few rings where spars were occurring, trainees using wooden weapons while the experts clashed actual blades, some of the blades made of dark ice. Alan watched with awe as two men, dressed in similar clothing to what Reinhart wore under his armor, clashed blades of dark ice, blue sparks flying. The first fighter pushed the other back with a grunt, swinging his sword outwards before drawing it in, the point aimed for the second fighter. Fighter 2, who noticed the stance, instantly sidestepped to his right as Fighter 1 thrust his sword forward, the air becoming visible as the cold ice cut through it. Fighter 2 instantly retaliated by swinging his sword at Fighter 1's exposed left side, but Fighter 1 reacted fast as he brought his right arm to his left, bringing his sword up backwards to block the slash. The blades clashed again as both combatants exchanged grins of enjoyment before disengaging, beginning to circle one another again.

Alan broke out of the trance he was caught in watching the two elites spar. He had always wanted to wield a sword expertly, but he never got the chance. So with a last wistful look at everyone, he turned around and walked out…. and almost bumped into Lissandra.

The woman visibly started, almost jumping back as she flung her arm forward at him, about to fire more icicles no doubt. But she paused, noticing that it was Alan, who seemed almost as surprised.

"I guess I'm just running into everyone today." He said as Lissandra, who was still wearing that mask, seemed to glance at the room he had just come out of.  
"What were you doing there? I thought I told you to take it easy." She said, obviously displeased by him disobeying. Alan raised an eyebrow, "I didn't really do anything. I simply felt the need to explore and found this room. I also ran into Reinhart." He said as Lissandra seemed to grimace, her lips tightening for a moment.

"Yes. Reinhart." Lissandra muttered, as she let out a breath through her nose. "I've been looking for you." She said as Alan's curiosity piqued.

"Uh, well, you found me." Alan stated as Lissandra's lip twitched. It seemed like she wasn't used to being referred or addressed to so casually.

"First off, I want to… Apologize for our last meeting. I understand I'd been a bit too aggressive." Lissandra muttered as Alan waved it off. "No hard feelings." He said as Lissandra continued, "I'm just getting a bit paranoid. I should tell you this since you are residing here for the time being; We're at war."

Alan's eyebrows raised. "At war? With who? Noxus?" He asked as Lissandra began walking, Alan falling into step beside her. She was wearing some type of dress, dark blue in color, reaching to the floor so it seemed like she was gliding again.

"No, we're at war with two tribes of the Freljord. The Avarosans and the Barbarians." Lissandra said as Alan raised an eyebrow.  
"Avarosans… Do you mean the group led by Ashe?" He asked as Lissandra looked at him, or atleast, seemed to look at him. The mask made it hard to tell.

"Yes… How do you know of her?" Lissandra asked skeptically.  
"She came to visit Piltover once, I still remember. She represented Freljord in a meeting of every nation's ambassadors." Alan said truthfully as Lissandra visibly bristled.  
"Yes… She always was an usurping brat. When I get my hands on her, I'll make her and her oaf of a husband pay a hundred times over." She said in a seething way as Alan stayed quiet, icy blue eyes clouded over in thought. "Everyone calls you "her majesty" and you did tell me you're the true Queen of the North. Is that why you are at war with Ashe? Because she's stealing your throne?" He asked as Lissandra nodded. "Yes." She simply replied.  
"Regardless, our scouts have spotted a small party heading for us and a battle might happen. As my guest, I request that you stay inside." She said as Alan frowned at that, but nodded. He didn't feel right letting everyone else fight while he sat here.

They returned to the room Alan had slept in, realizing this was sort of like a part of Lissandra's private quarters. The other door must lead to her bedroom, Alan thought. "I forgot to mention, this will be your quarters while you stay here." She said, pointing to a bare section of wall on another wall. Alan looked at it for a few moments before he saw the same tell-tale lines that outlined a barely visible door. Walking over to it, he pushed the door open with a hand, the door silently gliding open to reveal and modestly sized room. It was quite bare other than a bed, a bookcase, a desk and chair and an end-table.

As Alan inspected the room, Lissandra worked on putting her armor on, taking the pieces off the mannequin and clasping them onto her robe in the appropriate areas. When Alan turned around to look at her again, she was pulling her gloves on, the other armor pieces already in place.

"Stay within the castle." She said, as Reinhart walked into the room.  
"Queen Lissandra, We have identified the approaching group belonging to the barbarian tribe. They show banners of the Winter's Claw. Although we have not spotted Sejuani among the fray, they it's not just a small attack party. There's around 200 soldiers and at least 10 of them are astride warboars." Reinhart said in the deep, gravelly voice that he had as Lissandra nodded.

"Mobilize the Congelate Elite. We shall not lower our guard just because they send a raiding party at us instead of a fullscale army. We shall make them regret that." Lissandra stated as Reinhart bowed, before leaving with a swish of his cape again.

"Why are you going out to fight?" Alan asked, raising an eyebrow. From what he gathered so far, which wasn't much, Lissandra was a Queen to these people. "As the queen, don't you think you should stay out of the battle?" He added as Lissandra turned around to face him. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled at him.

"I maybe many things, Alan. I admit it, I have a lot of bad qualities as well as strong points. But I will not let my people fight for someone who won't fight beside them." She said with a strange determination in her voice. With that, she turned around and left Alan, who was standing frozen with wide eyes at her unexpected display of…. What could he call it? Loyalty to her people? Determination to keep them safe with her own hands? Whatever it was, Alan admired it.

The sounds of battle didn't reach into the castle that Alan was in. Everything seemed deserted, except for an iceborn here and there, patrolling the halls but rarely did he see them. Alan wandered the halls, exploring the ice-cave slash castle, when he happened upon a very, very large room. It seemed to be the entrance to the cave, and it was huge. Double doors 3 times bigger than Alan were on the wall across the room from him, with windows above it that revealed the light from outside, howling winds echoing in the vast hall. As Alan witnessed the grandeur, two Iceborn guards suddenly came running out of a side passage. A bunch more came running out from where Alan had come from, passing him by.

"What's going on!?" Alan asked, surprised by the sudden panic in the air. A guard stopped to look at him with wide eyes underneath his helmet.

"The battle was a trap, Lady Lissandra is retreating and we need to protect her when she comes!" He answered as Alan's eyes widened. But he owed Lissandra. She had saved his life and given him refuge.

"I want to help."

"We can always use more sword arms. The armory is down the hall, to your right. Don't take any dark ice weapons, you'll burn yourself." The guard said before he ran down the stairs to help his brethren, who were pulling the door open. A blast of white wind struck Alan as he retreated back into the hallway, running down the length of the corridor until he happened upon the afore-mentioned door to his right. He opened it, revealing a long room filled with weapon racks. As Alan ran in, he was suddenly struck by a pulse.

He stopped, eyes wide as he ceased all movements, freezing in mid-run. He raised his head, looking forward to see another door at the end of the room…

An insane urge was within him. He had to go into that room. Someone or something was calling him. Like he was hypnotized, Alan slowly walked down the room, ignoring all the weapons and armor around him. He stopped infront of the room, slowly raising his right hand. He touched the surface gingerly, tracing the ornate design on it when the door suddenly lit up from his touch, a pulse going through the door, lighting up the runic symbols that adorned the door as it passed. Then, with an unexpected but very eerie silence, the door glided open. Inside was a very large block of ice, perhaps 10 ft tall. Steps spiraled around it, leading to the top which was flat. Alan continued walking, going into the room before tentatively putting one foot on the icy step. It wasn't slippery, so Alan started ascending, not knowing why he was doing this. He just felt something calling him to climb it, something powerful.

When he reached the top, he saw a sword protruding from the ice. It was half embedded into the ice, but it looked so… beautiful. It had entranced Alan as he looked at it. It was a long, elegant blade with jagged edges, with a black handle that ended in a dark blue crystal pommel, sharp enough to be used as a secondary stabbing weapon. The guard was also black, one side coming up like the arch of a wing while the other dipped straight down, somewhat of a brace which would rest against the back of the wielders hand as well as guard it. The blade itself was even more gorgeous, black metal extending out of the handle for half the length of the blade, thinning out greatly near the end of it's 2 ft length, the last few inches embedded into the ice. But it looked… Wrong. Incomplete. The black blade had a jagged and unorthodox edge, jutting out or dipping in down the sharp edge like it was a broken blade. Blue crystals adorned the guard, glowing dimly.

Alan walked upto it, slowly and hesitantly extending his hand for the sword, which seemed to be calling to him. His shaking fingers hovered uncertainly over the handle… And then, he closed his hands, gripping the sword hard and pulled it out of the ice. Something surged within Alan as the blue glowing crystals within the hilt dimmed down.

Before Alan could spend more time examining this, he heard a tremendous crash from the entrance hall. He ran for it, taking 3 steps at a time down the ice pillar before rushing out of the armoury and back towards the entrance hall.

It was chaos, iceborn were fighting humans everywhere. But Alan's eyes landed on Lissandra, who was locked in battle with another woman. Lissandra threw icicles rapidly, conjuring them in the air as fast as she launched them, but the woman was agile, her cape flying behind her as she ran in a circle around Lissandra, hood falling back from the wind. White hair flew as the woman jumped, kicking off the wall and flipping over in the air, suddenly firing a volley of arrows from the bow in her hand while upside down in mid-flip, blue eyes shooting a piercing gaze at Lissandra. A large slab of ice jutted out infront of Lissandra, but it shattered as the arrows hit it, showering Lissandra with sharp fragments of ice. Alan lost all coherent thoughts and ran forward, the urge to help Lissandra overtaking all other thoughts. But as he ran through the fray, a man suddenly charged him, shoulder-tackling him to the ground.

Alan fell with a thump, looking up to see the man over him, raising his mace to strike Alan. Alan rolled to the right, dodging the mace as it smashed into the floor. Standing up, Alan let out an aggressive cry as he ran at the man, his inexperience clear in the way he charged. But his weapon struck the man right in the shoulder. The man screamed as smoke hissed from where his blade had made contact, the blood spurting out and freezing right as it did. But the black sword, as beautiful as it was, didn't do much damage, the blade too dull or too badly designed to do much damage. Wrenching the sword out, Alan jumped back as the man swung his mace at him in a wide horizontal arc. Before Alan could retaliate, another iceborn shoved a spear through his attacker's chest, swinging the dying man into another. That Iceborn was suddenly stabbed in the gut by a sword, blood spurting out of the wound before the man began to freeze into ice, originating at the wound.

Alan didn't stop to see the entire death, continuing to run forward. He passed Reinhart, who seemed to be locked in combat with a woman riding a very large boar and swinging a very dangerous flail.

Closing in, Alan saw that it was none other than Ashe who Lissandra was engaged in combat with. The Frost Archer had several cuts here and there, but Lissandra was in worse shape. She had 3 arrows, the shaft broken off, embedded into her left shoulder, and part of her mask was cracked, revealing one bright blue eye, similarly colored as her brightly glowing hands. Both paused as Alan ran upto them, forming a triangle. Ashe's eyes widened. So did Lissandra's. Both of their eyes stared at Alan's hands, at the sword he was holding.

"Impossible." Ashe said as Lissandra stared at him incomprehensibly. Then, suddenly, Ashe let loose 2 arrows at Alan in rapid succession. Everything suddenly slowed down as Alan watched the arrows fly at him, knowing that death was approaching him in the form of those arrows. His sword was not long enough to block them both but he raised in anyways. Fear flooded his veins, but the desperation that he experienced, the insane desire to continue living, to not die, flooded him even more, washing over the fear. Something inside of him was pulled viciously.

The air around him dropped to extreme cold as the water vapor instantly froze and gathered around the blade blade. Within a split second, he held a perfect 3 ft long sword, completed by dark blue ice now making up the incomplete portion of the sword. The newly added length and width blocked both of the arrows as Ashe's eyes widened further.

"FALL BACK!" Ashe cried out, suddenly surrounded by her soldiers as they all retreated, shouting calls of retreat. The iceborn around Alan cheered even as Alan's eyes met Lissandra, who was still staring at him in a shocked way. The cheering ended like a wave of silence as they saw Alan, standing infront of the great open doors, wielding a black and sapphire colored blade as he stared incomprehensibly at everyone.

"What's wrong?" He asked, meeting their stares. Reinhart was also staring at him with wide eyes.

"You're a Cryomancer?" Reinhart asked, as Alan blinked. "A what?"  
"A Cryomancer. Someone who can control the ice. Someone like Queen Lissandra." He explained, still staring at Alan in surprise as Alan frowned.

"How do… How would I even… I can't control ice." He stated as Reinhart tilted his head. "Even more surprising, the ice isn't burning you." Reinhart commented as Alan looked down at his hand gripping the black handle. Now that he thought about it, he recalled the man he struck with the black blade having been frostburned on contact.

"It's something I've had since birth… I'm not affected by the cold." He said, feeling very uncomfortable as everyone stared at him. "But maybe I am a Cryomancer, although a very weak one since I can't control ice. I'm sure there are loads of other people that can do that."

"No…. Cryomancers are extremely rare. Queen Lissandra was thought to be the only one in the past centuries. Frig Ascutis can only be wielded by an exceptionally strong Cryomancer." Reinhart explained, shaking his head in disbelief as a small laugh escaped him. "I can't believe this… Frig Ascutis… Drawn by a simple human… You are someone special, aren't you?" He said, still shaking his head in amusement as he walked away, the soldiers parting to let him through. "What are you all gawking at? Give the man some space, he just saved all your sorry asses!" He shouted as he walked up the stairs, the soldiers all jumping at his voice before hastening to clear the hall.

Lissandra was still staring at him, studying him as Alan looked at her uncertainly. The dark ice making up the rest of his blade shattered, falling down into pieces, leaving him with the black blade again as Alan glanced down at it. "Is it… Supposed to do that?" He asked as Lissandra blinked at him.

"We need to talk." She stated, still surprised from the sound of her tone.

* * *

**So, I hope this chapter wasn't as bad as the prologue chapter xD I suck at introductory chapters, so bear with me here. Anyway, leave your thoughts, comments and/or questions in the reviews below. Remember, you don't need an account to review and leave me your words of wisdom, whether they be a huge essay on how much you loved my story or how i could improve or whether they be something a zen master would say like "the best authors have ice for hair, young grasshopper"**

Thanks for reading!

-Wings


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone and welcome to another chapter of IHIE.**

**First off, I'd like to thank all of you for reading my story, especially those of you who reviewed! You guys are my primary reason for using the time allocated for my recreation to work on this instead. Ofcourse, this is a form of recreation as well. I'm very happy to say that this story has already gathered 1320 views, 14 favourites, 32 alerts and a whopping 27 reviews! Wow, that's alot. Hopefully this will get as many views as my other two stories, Darkness Rising and The Shadow that watches [approx 30k views].**

**Also, to Leli; I didn't write the story in bold font and it doesn't show up as such in the web page. But I've noticed this error occuring when viewing the story in cell phones, for some reason. I dunno, it happens randomly.**

**Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the story!**

* * *

**In her Icy Embrace**

**Chapter 2: How he learned.**

His eyes first landed on the now familiar couch in the living room which acted as a common space between his and Lissandra's room as they entered. As soon as the door behind them closed, Alan turned around to face Lissandra. "You're hurt. You need to take care of those injuries first."

Lissandra turned to look at him, her single visible eye focusing on him. He focused on her visible eye as well, noting how it looked distant and had the slightest tinge of sorrow within its azure depths. The color of the eye itself wasn't just blue either. Whereas Alan's eyes were icy blue, rimmed with silvery white so that it was a very bright color, her eyes were a darker and slightly duller shade of periwinkle, slightly sinister but mainly mysterious; like a door behind which untold secrets lay. A door which no one had reached towards before.

They hadn't realized they had been staring at each other until Lissandra blinked, turning her head away from him. Alan just noticed now that Lissandra was just an inch shorter than him. He didn't have to look down at her, but with her imposing aura always swirling around her, she had looked bigger than him at first. Now, as she was weary and worn after a battle, she looked like a regular woman, aside from her blue skin.

"Tch, It's nothing serious." She scoffed, trying to put off his worries with an air of arrogance and nonchalance, like she was gesturing that 'Yeah, I've had much worse than this!'

"Serious or not, You need to get that looked at." Alan said with a new firm tone in his voice that he hadn't known he had before. Lissandra seemed slightly surprised by it as well, looking up at him in a slightly surprised way before nodding. She retreated to her room without another word, as Alan took a few steps back and plopped down on the couch, suddenly feeling exhausted. He drew the small black broken sword from a belt hoop of his pants, which he had turned into a make-shift mount, and inspected it.

Like he had first laid eyes on it, it was both beautiful and tragic. Elegant yet flawed. Complete, yet broken.

_Just like a certain woman you have come to know._

Alan shook his head to clear it of thoughts about Lissandra, focusing on the sword instead. He ran his hand down the side of the black sword, feeling the etching that was drawn into the side of the blade. It was in an ancient language that he did not recognize, probably the same language that most of the Iceborn knew. But he recalled what Reinhart had called the sword. It took him a few seconds to perfectly recall it, but when he did, he felt it on the tip of his tongue, waiting to spring out. But he felt like once he said its name, he'd cross a door he would not be able to go back through again. Hardening his resolve, as always, Alan took a step through the door and into the unknown.

"Frig Ascutis." He murmured. The sword seemed to pulse within his hands, like it was reacting to him saying it's name. It was slightly bemusing that the sword did not burn him…. Did that mean?

Gently, Alan lowered the sword onto the coffee table infront of him, standing up before walking over to one of the large pieces of dark ice which provided light. Hesitantly, he raised his right hand, reaching out for it, his pale hand shaking slightly with trepidation. If he turned out to be wrong in his guess, he'd receive a very painful burn, as both Lissandra and Reinhart had warned him about. Once again, Alan's explorer instincts gave him the shove that came from the push.

He thrust his hand forward the last few inches, so he palmed the ice, wincing instinctively. But it wasn't burning his hand. On the contrary, it felt like anything cold or freezing felt to him; just mildly cold. Pleasantly so. He began running his hand over it, like it was a living creature, petting it as a small smile of accomplishment broke into his face.

The door to Lissandra's room opened without a sound again, but he felt her presence when it did so he turned around to look at her then raised an eyebrow. She was wearing a loose blue dress, full sleeved and reaching down to the floor as usual, with light blue intricate designs on the hems. The V neck had crisscrossing string on it like a corset, pulling it closed down to her stomach, although it opened up high enough to reveal part of her collar bone. Above that, was a scarf. She had wrapped a scarf around her neck and head and face like a hooded mask, keeping her features hidden from him. Only her eyes, blue and slightly sparkly, was revealed to him as they glanced at him before she moved briskly to the mannequin. She placed her cracked and damaged armor on it and the mannequin suddenly glowed once. Infront of his eyes, the broken parts of the armor began to fix themselves. It was a very slow process, however, perhaps millimeter by millimeter. Afterwards, Lissandra walked over to one of the sofas and took a seat, gesturing for Alan to join her. He did, sitting down on the one opposite to her, taking the sword into his hands again.

"May I?" Lissandra asked, holding a hand out as Alan nodded, extending the sword, hilt first, to her. She took it, raising it up to inspect it.

"It's called Frig Ascutis, right?" He asked. Lissandra nodded. "It's written in the Ancient Language. It's translation would be Cold Edge, as in, the Cold Edge of Death or perhaps just because it is one of the coldest weapons in existence." She explained as Alan raised an eyebrow.  
"Well, why hasn't anyone used it before?" He asked.

"Only a Cryomancer can wield it. You need to have the power to freeze the air around the sword to complete it's blade, like you did when Ashe fired arrows at you." She said, eyes narrowing at the name.

"Why don't you wield it?" He asked. Lissandra's eyes darkened as well as narrowed, then she averted his gaze, as if she was slightly ashamed and bitter. "The sword rejected me."

Alan didn't pry further, instead choosing to remain silent for a few moments before another question came into his mind.

"Wait… I thought the Winter's Claw and the Avarosans were also at war with each other?" He asked, frowning as he looked up at Lissandra. Her eyes darkened with distaste as she said, "Yes. That's what everyone thought as well. Guess they knew who the bigger threat was and joined together to try and take me out first." Alan could almost see her smile bitterly under the mask.

"So… What now?" He asked as Lissandra looked up at him, giving him a few moments of silence to elaborate. "Er… I mean, now that I've drawn this frozen Excalibur, what happens to me?" He said as Lissandra's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"As I first thought, you're smart enough to not let anything past you. Well, now that you've drawn a sword of legends, you are most likely the only one who could help us win this war. Help me take my rightful place as queen." Lissandra said.

"Well, that'll be a problem, seeing as how I have absolutely no combat training or experience. Nor can I conjure up ice like you do." Alan said, somewhat disappointed in his lack of ability. The way the corner of Lissandra's eyes moved, Alan knew with certainty that she was smiling. "Well, it's a good thing we have people who can help you get better."

Alan perked his head up. Ever since he was a young boy, he wanted to wield a sword. To be someone. To be a legend or a hero. Now, every dream he had about those was presented to him in an icy platter and it suddenly seemed like so much. It seemed overwhelming, like facing one of Piltover's freight carriers speeding at you on the flux lines. Yet again, Alan's instincts, the instinct that made him sign up to be an explorer, the instinct that led him through his life upto this point, won out again. The instinct of taking the jump and not looking back.

The resolve hardening within him was visible in his eyes as Alan stood up abrubtly, Lissandra herself taken aback momentarily.

"What do I have to do?" Alan asked. Lissandra smiled again, knowing that she had just successfully secured someone who could just help her win this war against those wretched Avarosans and the barbarians. Little did Alan know, he had just walked right into Lissandra's plans of using him.

…

"Again." Reinhart said as Alan panted, sweat running down his body. He was shirtless, his top thrown onto the floor outside the sparring square, already drenched with sweat. His body was what was expected of a 24 year old explorer; athletically fit, lean muscles making up most of his body, the slightest signs of a 4-pack peeking through his slim abdomen. He held a wooden sword out infront of him with both hands, his grip unsteady as his great heaving breaths wracked his body, making his hands sway up and down with each gasp. Reinhart was standing absolutely still, like he wasn't even breathing, a wooden sword held lazily up in one hand.

Too late; Reinhart darted forward, dashing past Alan and smacking the wooden sword on the back of Alan's right leg. Alan hissed in pain, being forced down to one knee as Reinhart spun around right behind Alan, bringing the sword around. He turned the sword at the last second, so the flat side of the sword smacked against Alan's already sore left side. It was still hard enough to throw Alan off of his unstable kneel, the explorer falling down onto the mat with a groan of pain, not knowing where to clutch as every part of his body hurt. He had probably been bruised everywhere as Reinhart turned and regarded him coolly. "You know that if you don't attack me, I'll come at you." The man said as Alan forced himself onto his front, bracing his hands on the padded floor.

"How long… are we gonna… keep this up…?" Alan said through gritted teeth, speaking inbetween pained hisses of breaths as he slowly forced himself up. Unsteadily, he got up, bringing the sword up and getting into the basic stance Reinhart had showed him. Both hands gripping the hilt, held out infront of him at waist level, the sword tilted forward just a bit, legs spaced out, right foot forward.

"We're gonna go at it until you learn or until you pass out." Reinhart stated simply as Alan focused on the man infront of him. Maybe this time, he would succeed. After all, every story he read in his days spent at the library, he found that the protagonist would always learn it after getting knocked down 20 times. Wasn't he the protagonist of his own story? He felt a rush of energy inside of him. Surely, he would do it this time.

He charged with a roar of triumph and a few seconds later, he dropped onto his back on the ground, his sword skittering away from him as he tried to inhale to replace the air that was knocked out of his lungs. Reinhart was still standing where he had stood, his left leg still raised with the knee bent slightly from having used it to counter Alan's charge.

"Reckless. You charge like that again, your opponent will simply let you run into his sword instead of his knee." Reinhart stated as Alan groaned, feeling like his stomach had liquefied from the kick. Again, Alan turned around to his front, flopping down like a fish before he began pushing himself up.

"Well, I'll give you this; You're stubborn." Reinhart said as he watched Alan stand up again, this time supporting himself with his hands on his knees to force himself to stand straight.

"Thanks…" Alan muttered as Reinhart raised an eyebrow.

"That wasn't a compliment." He replied as Alan snorted through his nose in slight amusement.

This time, Alan cautiously watched Reinhart, falling into his stance. _Right foot forward, left foot back… Right foot tense, slightly bent, use it as a pivot. Left foot loose, use it to step._

Reinhart charged, Alan seeing it this time as he used his right foot to kick off, taking a hurried step backwards to make Reinhart's slash miss, the wooden sword slashing the air infront of Alan, who had now turned his left foot into the forward pivot, seeing his chance at retaliation. He pushed forward with this back right foot, taking a stutter-step with his forward left foot as he slashed down at the Reinhart's extended sword.

The tip of his blade smacked Reinhart's sword right where the blade met the guard, the force jerking it out of Reinhart's hands as the sword clattered to the ground. Alan grinned at his successful disarming, until he remembered what Reinhart had said about skilled disarmed opponents not hesitating after they were disarmed. Alan raised his head just in time to see the spinning kick fly at his face.

_Fu-_

_.._

He groaned, waking up slowly as he first registered the comfortable bed he was lying in. Opening his eyes to the dark room, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, the dark ice lights in the room automatically brightening to illuminate the room. It took his battered mind to realize that he was in his room. To his right, on the end table beside his bed, a small flask with red liquid sat next to a small saucer and a teaspoon. The flask was half empty, so someone must've spoon fed him when he was asleep. From the slightly tangy taste of cherry and the minty taste of some herbal concoction, he figured that this was one of those healing potions that a lot of military organizations used to heal minimal to moderate injuries. For some reason, thinking about Reinhart kneeling beside him and spoon feeding him with a caring, loving, non-Reinhart expression on his face made Alan want to throw up.

The doors to his room slid open as Lissandra walked, or rather, floated in, her graceful movements always seeming surreal to him. She was still wearing the scarf, though it looked like it had been put on hastily as opposed to before.

"You're awake. I believe you feel okay now after a good rest?" She asked, her blue eyes inspecting him for injuries, though they lingered on his bared torso for a moment too long. She blinked as Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, thanks for patching me up again." Alan said nervously, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his head.

"Who said I was the one who patched you up?" Lissandra asked in a tone which seemed like…. Embarrassment? Was she actually shy?

"You didn't?" Alan asked, the slight twinges of horror making it's way into his mind, the image of a creepy Reinhart with a nurse hat on swimming into his mind.

"Uh… Yes, I did." Lissandra said, averting her eyes and suddenly taking an interest on the empty desk on the other side of the room. "It's not like I wanted to patch you up… I'm simply responsible for your well-being since you were forced into this when you were under my shelter…"

Alan could swear he saw a slight pink tinge under Lissandra's eyes, the slightest part of her cheeks visible through the scarf as his eyes widened slightly. Lissandra glanced at him again and noticed him staring at him, getting even more worked up as her shoulders went rigid. "Stop staring at me like that, you idiot!" She cried out in indignation, turning around and storming out of the room in embarrassment, her long white hair, which was undone, trailing behind her. Alan was still shocked at her sudden change in behavior. She had seemed like such a cold, focused woman…. And now, here she was, acting like a shy young girl. He blinked a couple of times, still frozen even though the doors had long closed, before he realized what he was doing. A flush crept up his own face, thank god he was alone now, as he plopped back down onto his bed, groaning.

…

**[A/N: Sorry about that tsundere moment guys, I just had to do it xD ]**

…

Lissandra was wearing her usual blue robe and mask. Like a switch, she had suddenly become cold and indifferent again, watching Alan impassively as he entered the special room that had been cleared out for his practice.

"So, we'll just pretend like today morning never happened?" Alan asked as Lissandra's lips thinned in a silent, displeased affirmation. Alan took up a position infront of her. Today, he was wearing clothes provided to him by one of the iceborn servants. He didn't see who it was, but found the clothes lain out on his desk. It was a loose blue top, half-sleeved for ease-of-movement. Long dark blue trousers covered his lower half, with a belt tied around the waist, a custom mount on the side so he can carry his sword with him. Currently ,it was right there, mounted on his left side.

"Cryomancy is an ancient branch of magic. As all ancients, it gathers power from 3 different sources." Lissandra said, raising her right hand, forefinger up. "A pool of magical energy stored within all beings called Mana. Most creatures have negligible amounts while the ones who actually have a usable pool tend to become mages."  
She raised a second finger.  
"Your emotions. It provides much greater power than your mana pool can provide and it goes as long as your willpower can take you. But it is also very unpredictable, and therefore, dangerous and hard to master."

Finally, she raised a third finger.  
"The last source of energy you can gather for ancient magic is from items from the ancient times. Objects borne of such magic usually provide a huge source of magic for use, but these objects also have a limit, similar to Mana. Unlike Mana, however, these objects cannot recharge the energy taken from them, so the user must pour his own mana into the object for storage and later usage. Think of it like a reserve."

Lissandra lowered her face so she seemed to be looking at his sword.

"Frig Ascutis is one such item. Unlike Mana or Emotions, the power you can use from an item is not limited to your physical or mental form. You can unleash all the energy stored within the object at once, usually creating devastating power. I suggest you do not do so with Frig Ascutis, as it has been given the power of Iceborn present and past for the last few millennia."

Alan suddenly felt uneasy about the black, broken but beautiful sword resting on his hip. "Er… So you mean, Frig Ascutis has a huge storage of power?"

Lissandra gave a cold smile, "I'm saying that if you try to release all the power stored within this sword, you could just obliterate the entire Freljord in one giant release of power. But, use it sparingly, and it can become your greatest ally. However, you need to pour some of your own mana into it at the end of everyday, to keep it charged." She explained.

"How will I know if I run out of charge?" Alan asked as Lissandra seemed to roll her eyes behind her mask.  
"I'll teach you a basic trick. But first, you need to reach deep inside of yourself…"

A minute later, Alan was sitting on the floor, cross legged, both of his hands resting on his knees on their respective sides, his eyes closed, back straight as he sought the pool of energy lying within him.

"It's there… I know it is there… You know it is there… All you need to do is find it… And set it free." Lissandra whispered, Alan suppressing a shudder at her breathy voice. It seemed like she was right behind him, her lips inches away from his ear as she spoke, but he couldn't lose focus yet.

He searched inside of him, searching for what she had described. Imagining that his body was a warm furnace, a desert while he sought an oasis within it, an oasis of icy cold water that would be his salvation… Reaching in…

There.

He found a cold spot within himself. Like a sphere, at the very center of his body. His mind's hand reached out for it, gently touching it with the tip of his mental fingers… And it exploded outwards.

Alan took a long, deep inhale as he felt the power reach out throughout his entire body, filling all his veins with a cool hum. He felt like he was a handicapped man suddenly growing back a limb, like a blind person finally being able to open his eyes and see. It felt so new… Yet felt so familiar. His eyes had opened but he hadn't realized it. Lissandra was standing infront of him, not moving at all. Her aura seemed… Surprised.

"Well. You must've used your mana before, haven't you?" She asked as Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Well.. I guess. I wasn't conscious of its existence before, but I have done some minor things that I think were magic… Like directing the flow of snow falling from the sky, or perhaps lowering the temperature around myself." He muttered, staring at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, flexing them and feeling them.

"That explains it… Although training with your magic is the only way to increase the total amount of mana that resides within you, the first time you use it, the mana becomes reactive. Then, the longer you go without using it, the more potent and stronger it gets. Right now, you're glowing almost as bright as your sword, though it's much smaller and not as strong." She said, nodding in a way that said that she was impressed. She was smiling as well, but not at his achievement but at the prospect that Alan was now definitely the key to her victory.

"Now what?" He asked.  
"Now the basic trick. Simply close your eyes and will the cool energy within to cover your eyes like another layer." Lissandra dictated as Alan did so. "Then open your eyes."

He opened his eyes and his mouth fell open in surprise and awe. His normal vision was no longer normal. Everything had turned sort of dark, with contrasting outlines. The darkice lights glowed white from within and as he turned his head to Lissandra, he found her entire form lit up like a glowing silhouette in the dark vision.

"Wow, What am I seeing!?" He asked, staring at her with wide eyes. Lissandra couldn't help but smile at his amazement. "You're seeing energy."

Alan looked down at his own hand, seeing it burning brightly as well. But then, he looked down at his sword, which wasn't glowing, but it was blindingly white. He couldn't even stare at it without his eyes watering. He closed his eyes, opening them again to find his vision back to normal.

"This… Is awesome! I never knew another world existed like this, never knew I could do all of this!" He said, overflowing with awe as he turned around to Lissandra with a grin.

…

He was sweating again. This was as hard as the physical exercise he had to do with Reinhart, perhaps even moreso. No longer was it as magical as it had seemed.

"Harness the power. Keep your emotions in check, do not let them surface over your mana flow." Lissandra said calmly as Alan worked hard on keeping his focus, trying not to think about anything as he kept conjuring a ball of ice inbetween his hands. It had started out as the size of a speck and after 2 hours, was the size of a football.

The door opened and Alan was distracted momentarily, but he didn't lose his focus on the iceball though. He didn't really hear what conversation was exchanged between Lissandra and Reinhart, who was the one to have entered the room, until the door closed and his eyes glanced over to see Lissandra's lips tight in a grimace.

"What's wrong?" He asked absently.  
"Just… Reinhart…" She muttered sourly.  
"Don't you like him?"

"I do. He's a loyal and skilled soldier, worthy of his title… But he also has an uncanny interest in me."

"Wha-" The bit of information hit Alan harder than it should have, for some reason as his focus was lost.

"CONCENTR-" Lissandra started speaking, but it was too late. The ice ball shattered with the force of a small bomb, throwing Alan and Lissandra across the room from each other. Alan slammed into the floor, rolling over and sliding across the smooth floor, groaning in pain. He remembered that the explosion was focused more to what was in front of him instead of what was behind the ice ball, so Lissandra took the brunt of the explosion.

"Oh shit." He muttered, quickly scrambling up to his feet as he saw Lissandra lying on the ground , her white braided hair lying on the ground like an unmoving snake. He stumbled on his feet as his new bruises cried out, but he managed to make it over to her. Absently, he registered the entire room was covered in a layer of frost and ice, but he was now more concerned about Lissandra, who was lying unconscious under him on the floor.

"Lissandra! Are you okay? Lissandra!" He shouted, trying to wake her as he gripped her shoulders and shook her.  
After a few seconds of trying, which seemed like a long time, Lissandra stirred, groaning as relief flooded Alan. "Thank god... I was worried I hurt you." Alan said.

"You did…. You idiot…" Lissandra muttered as Alan noticed a bruise already forming on her left elbow. Without thinking about it, he grabbed her elbow and instantly froze up in shock, Lissandra going rigid under his grip as well.

Strangely, the painful burn they expected…. Didn't happen. All Alan felt was her cold skin, slightly warm underneath the blue skin, yet pleasantly cool to the touch. They were both shocked into silence for Maker knows how long, but then, Lissandra suddenly shot up, standing up and briskly walking out of the room, leaving Alan in the room, who was still trying the digest the fact that he had touched her without burning himself. How much was the extent of his powers?

Only time would tell.

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**Don't really know what to say except for you guys to leave a review behind. More reviews mean I get more pressured into writing the story, so think of me like your very own hamster that you can persuade to do radical tricks, albeit a very sexy, very intelligent, very awesome and very narcississtic hamster ;3**

**See you guys next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey there guys and welcome to another chapter of IHIE.**

**So, one of you asked for an artwork depicting Alan Frost. But since I don't have any time on hand to do an artwork throughout these hard times, I'll simply put a link right here to a picture that best captures what I originally thought of Alan. It's pretty much how he looks like, except he has brighter eyes and his ears are rounded and not elfy.**

**Full credit of the art goes to its artist, Negshin.**

** art/Guardian-sneak-peak-194683749**

**Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the story and don't worry, Teemo will die soon!**

***notices Saladeo***

**-Wings senpai**

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**In her Icy Embrace**

**Chapter 3: How he reached out.**

In no time at all, 2 weeks had flown by. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, each day becoming a tedious sort of routine. Wake up, freshen up, Eat breakfast, Go train for 5 hours with Reinhart. Then, go back to take a shower, eat some dinner then proceed to train 5 more hours with Lissandra. Finally, an hour for himself before he had to go to sleep. Wonderful.

Another ordinary day started when Alan woke up, making some noises at the back of his throat at his loss of sleep as be pushed himself up into a sitting position. Life here so far north was a bit weird when it came to the time. Since the area always had a snowstorm blowing through, even when the snow was mild, it was impossible to tell when it was day and when it was night. Lissandra had said that they had 6 months of days and 6 months of nights. The sixth month of night had already ended and they were in their first month of sun. It had taken him awhile to know when to sleep and when to stay awake, but since the ice castle was situated inside a mountain, most rooms didn't have windows.

Again, Alan had to wonder how strong Lissandra really was that she had made this entire ice castle by herself. It was huge, as far as Alan had explored, with 3 floors which had hallways that branched almost infinitely. He had only explored the main hallways and peeked into a certain room or two.

Finally, he got up. He went into his bathroom, washing the sleep from his face before taking one of the razors provided to him [made of ice] and shaving off the stubble that had grown for the last day. His facial hair grew slowly and sparsely, and he didn't like it. Usually, it took 3 days for the stubble to even become noticeable.

He ran a hand through his white hair, which was getting slightly long now. Walking back into his room, he perused his wardrobe for something casual to wear, since right now, he wore just a pair of boxers.

Two minutes later, he was wearing a short sleeved blue top with loose blue trousers that would allow him to move and train with ease. It took him another 3 minutes to find the dining room, which was a floor below where his room was. He still didn't know why he got the room right next to Lissandra's room, but he didn't question it much.

There was a lot to pick from when he got there, as the Iceborn turned out to handle fire during cooking very well, although their fire was strangely blue and did not give off heat. It still cooked food nice and warmly, though. He grabbed a three-decker sandwich from the table, exchanging greetings with some of the people he knew. There was Fenrir, another man from the Congelate Elite, Eluvia, who was a servant/maid to the queen, Kenway, who was one of the infantry along with Hilda. All of them had the usual iceborn looks, white hair and blue skin. But now, having spent most of his time within their midst, he had learned to see the subtle differences. Some had paler skin than others, or darker tones. Some of their white hair was shiny like snow; others had dusky off-white hair or platinum blonde, even silver. And of course, all of them looked different in terms of facial structure and bodily structure, just like normal people.

Lissandra herself was a mystery. From what Alan had found out about her, she had lusciously long white hair, silky smooth to the touch, like trying to hold the winter's breeze. Her skin was a light shade of blue and although he had touched her only once and for a few fleeting moments, he remembered the comforting coolness in her soft and supple skin. She was tall as well, unlike most women, and carried herself in a way that only a queen could do so. Her movements seemed like she was gliding on ice, smooth and graceful. He had seen her eyes, a shade of gentle periwinkle with silvery white edges. They could be soft and cool like snow and turn frigid and sharp like an icicle within the span of a second. Her personality itself was quite the puzzle as well. She kept up a wall of indifference towards everything, verging on the precipice between arrogance and impartiality. But when she didn't wear her mask, or when she was caught off guard, which Alan seemed to have a knack for doing, her wall would suddenly shatter and he would glimpse a timid, submissive side of her, which was similar to a little girl.

Lost in thought, Alan bumped into a door and found himself empty handed, his sandwich already eaten, the door to the training room in front of him.

He opened the door, walking in to see Reinhart standing there with another man. The second man was as tall as Alan, but looked twice as imposing. He stood there silently, like a statue, no indication that he was even breathing. He wore dark blue crystalline armor all over his body, his face covered by a mask of reflective dark ice that prevented anyone from seeing his face. His white hair was long on one side, down the right side of his face, where it was tied into a tiny ponytail near his eye level. He had silver ear rings shaped like X's, with one of the legs of the 'X' acting as the pin through the ear, thin and sharp.

"Good Morning Alan." Reinhart said as the other man turned his head slowly to look at Alan. "This is another member of the Congelate Elite, our Special Op officer, Glass."

"Glass?" Alan asked. He found the name peculiar, but found the man even more so. He still wasn't moving, aside from staring at Alan. "So why is he here?"

"He'll be taking a test on you to see how well you're fighting now." Reinhart said as Alan raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, no weapons. Only your body." Reinhart reassured as Alan frowned at the other man, sizing him up. It was impossible to tell how skilled the man was.

A few minutes later, both of them were in the training mat. Alan kept a stance, watching the man warily as he slowly began circling. The man took no stance other than the way he stood, circling with Alan so he didn't get flanked. Alan noticed a lot of Iceborn gathering around their ring to see who would win.

Alan dashed forward. The days he had trained had improved him drastically, as he moved much, much faster now. He aimed a curved uppercut with his right hand travelling left-up, but Glass moved away from the hit. Alan continued to the momentum, allowing the uppercut to turn him around so he did a complete 180. Kicking off with is legs, he now aimed a very heavy elbow-thrust with his left elbow at Glass's chest. Glass had taken his armor off, wearing the standard dark blue uniform of all the soldiers, so there was no fear of getting the backfiring pain of his flesh and bone hitting hard armor. But Glass was nimble, sidestepping the elbow with a small spin. That spin turned viciously fast at the end as Glass suddenly whipped his outside leg around at Alan's exposed side.

Alan tightened the muscles on his targeted side to brace for the impact, but when it hit, it still made him grunt. The attack had placed Glass facing Alan, since Alan had done his elbow-thrust in a sideways movement. He lashed out with his right arm, aiming a chop with his forearm at Glass' throat, but the Spec Ops officer raised both of his arms, using them to take the brunt of the impact before shoving Alan's extended arm down. Glass suddenly lunged forward, slamming his forehead into Alan's face.

Alan made a sputtering noise as blood gushed out of his now broken nose, pouring over his lips as he stumbled back from the impact, dazed, vision blurred with the reflex release of tears to his eyes. Glass wasted no time, suddenly falling down into a very low crouch and spinning around, a sweep with one leg outstretched kicking Alan off of his unbalanced posture.

Alan's back hit the ground with a resounding thump as he groaned, eyes opening then widening as he rolled away to the right, moments before Glass, who had used his crouch to launch up into the air, slammed down with his elbow where Alan had been moments earlier.

Creating some distance between them, Alan using the back of his right hand to wipe away the curtain of blood that had formed on the lower part of his face from his nose. That left a long streak of smudged blood on the back of his forearm, but Alan paid it no heed, keeping a wary eye on Glass, who seemed to have returned to his casual posture, no movements visible to Alan, not even the expected rise and fall of Glass' chest from breathing.

"Is he even human?" Alan asked as Reinhart's mouth twitched with amusement.  
"No, he's Iceborn, as are we all." Reinhart answered as Alan spit out the blood and saliva that had accumulated within his mouth, leaving a coppery taste. "Lovely." Alan stated, before dashing forwards again.

This time, Alan went with a quick combo of 4 jabs to Glass's head before aiming a strong haymaker with his other hand, down below. It succeeded, as Glass had raised both his arms to take the 4 jabs, giving Alan's other hand a clear path. The punch was powerful, Alan's arm muscles rippling from the impact as it slammed into Glass' stomach region, the muscles there already tense in anticipation of his punch. Glass still made no sound, but it was obvious he was reeling from the punch as Alan carried on with the momentum of his punch, bending his right arm as he came closer before thrusting his elbow upwards.

It slammed into Glass' chin, the elite's head whipping upwards from the force as the man began to stumble back. Alan wasted no time, shouting with effort as his left arm shot out from under his right arm's elbow, slamming a final punch into Glass' now unprepared abdomen.

The elite fell back onto the mat, a dull thump echoing through the room with the fall as Alan panted with exertion. Everything was silent for a few moments. Then, the entire room broke in cheers and applause. Alan raised his head, looking around to see all the Iceborn wearing looks of amazement and approval at his victory, Reinhart nodding proudly.

"Well done, Alan." Reinhart stated as Alan turned his eyes back to Glass, who was finally recovering, pushing himself up onto his arms.

Alan walked over and offered an arm to Glass, who looked at it for a few moments, face still hidden by his mask, before reaching up and clasping it. Alan pulled the man up as Lissandra walked over.

"Well fought, both of you." Lissandra stated as she looked at Alan first and then at Glass. "Thank you, Dismissed."

Glass bowed silently to Lissandra before walking out of the training room. The other soldiers were returning to their own spars and workouts as Lissandra looked at Alan again, tilting her head to the side.

"You're hurt." She stated.  
"No shit. I wonder what gave it away." Alan said with a small smirk, aware of the blood coating most of the lower half of his face. The corner of Lissandra's lips twitched as she said, "Come."

…

"Ah fuck." Alan swore as he tried to pour just a bit of the health potion into a teaspoon, but spilled most of it trying to do so.

"Tch let me." Lissandra said impatiently, taking the small flask and spoon from him and slowly pouring it out onto the spoon. They were both back in Alan's room, where Alan had taken a seat on his bed with Lissandra next to him, a small bag of first aid supplies on her lap.

Alan had changed out of the top he was wearing since it had been ruined with blood. His nose had stopped bleeding but was badly misshapen and swollen.

"Open." Lissandra said in a soft voice as Alan obeyed, opening his mouth. Lissandra gently placed the spoon on his lips and poured the potion in, Alan swallowing it. Instantly, Alan felt tingles all over his body, especially on his nose as the bruises healed. But he became more aware of the position they were in, with both of them leaning close, Lissandra spoon feeding him.

The thought seemed to have appeared to Lissandra as well as she froze in her movements, watching Alan through her mask. Alan longed to see what was under her mask. It was a curiousity that nibbled at his conscious every time he laid eyes upon her concealed face.

Before he even realized it, his right hand had reached up to the exposed part of Lissandra's face. Lissandra stiffened at his approach, but did not move, both of them holding their breaths as Alan's hand inched closer…. Soft, cool skin, belonging to her cheek, met his fingertips as they finally touched her face, Lissandra tensing up reflexively for the pain which did not come. A moment or two passed without pain and Lissandra found her tense muscles relaxing, or rather, melting under the soft caress of Alan.

A crack sound and Alan recoiled, his hand shooting away from Lissandra's face and to his own as he clutched his nose, swearing again. The potion had finished its job and snapped all the bones in his nose back into place.

Just like that, the moment was lost as Lissandra blinked [obviously not visible to Alan], a blush creeping up onto her cheeks in the form of a light pink tinge. She was not used to people getting around her icy wall of indifference so easily. She finally exhaled the breath she was holding, Alan not meeting her eyes.

"Your nose is fixed, you should go clean up." Lissandra said in an unmotivated way, closing up the first-aid bag and standing up. "There's no more training tonight, get some rest." She said and walked out of his room without another glance. Alan could only stare after her, confused by the actions he had taken and the whirlwind of emotions swirling within his mind.

…

_**Time skip: 1 week**_

…

Alan truly was a very, very fast learner. Like a natural, he had learned how to fight well enough to go toe-to-toe with Reinhart now. His magical potential was revealed to be quite excellent as his cryomancy had become formidably strong in a short amount of time.

Now, he was wearing the armor of the Congelate Elite, dark ice and platinum, Frig Ascutis sheathed at his side, standing next to other Elites. They were overlooking the precipice of a small rise, watching the small city of Avarosa in the distance.

"Today is the day we deal retribution upon the usurper to Queen Lissandra's throne." Reinhart said, standing next to Alan. Like Alan, Reinhart carried his helmet under one arm, sword sheathed at his side.

"Where is Lissandra?" Alan asked, his hair, now long enough to cover one eye completely, blowing in the wind and flecked with the snow that fell.  
"She is behind us, protected by the other Congelate Elite. I myself shall stand next to her. You, on the other hand…"  
"I will be leading the charge, I know." Alan said, no emotion present in his steeled voice.  
"Are you sure you want this? Queen Lissandra and I both suggest otherwise." Reinhart said as Alan pulled his helmet on, the platinum helmet gleaming in the diffused light for a moment, the dark blue feathery edges of the winged helmet moving in the wind. There were two eye holes in the helmet, so the majority of his face was protected.

"Let me know when it's time." Alan said, sitting down on the snow as Reinhart walked away. The fact that they were going to battle within a few hours was nerve wracking, yet Alan was able to detach himself from his usual personality so he didn't feel anything except butterflies in his stomach. He kept himself distanced from his emotions, knowing that this way, he wouldn't be scared out of his wits. Controlling your own mind was another key knowledge for magic arts, so Alan had already learned how to do so about 4 days ago.

Lost in thoughts and contemplations, Alan didn't notice the time going by until Reinhart finally walked over and nudged Alan.

"It's time."

…

Everything was happening in flashes at a time, other less important things not even registering in Alan's mind. One moment, he was lining up with the other soldiers. The next moment, he was running at full sprint at the wall of soldiers coming up at them from the opposite direction. A war cry tore out of his throat, joined by others as he raised the broken blade of Frig Ascutis. A tugging sensation in his gut, and the sword completed itself by freezing the air itself to form the rest of the blade.

"FOR LISSANDRA!" He shouted, meeting the charge head on.

The first man that Alan faced literally ran into his blade, since they were both charging. The barbarian had raised his sword, a dire mistake for the first charge, and Alan had pierced him through with his sword. The fun thing about Frig Ascutis that Alan had found out a last week was that the length and shape of the sword varied according to his desire. Right now, as he had charged, the blade was thin and very long, about 7 ft. It pierced right through the barbarian's chest in a slightly upward angled thrust, exiting out the back and then shooting through the mouth of another barbarian right behind, whose war cry died along with him as the blade pierced through his head. Alan wasted no time, pulling his blade out as he kicked the dead bodies away, the ice separating itself from the black portion of Frig Ascutis so he didn't have to wrench it out and waste time and energy, instead simply forging another blade from the air again, this time 3 ft. in length.

Everything was a blur. No amount of training had prepared Alan for this. The sheer amount of chaos within the battlefield was astounding and half the time, Alan had to first discern friend from foe before attacking or not. Alan was shoved and pushed from every direction, as he himself pushed and shoved back in the utter chaos of fighting within the battleground. But it wasn't that hard; the barbarians were ill trained and unarmored and the Iceborn cut them down swiftly.

Suddenly, Alan was shoved forward into a small clearing by the warriors fighting around him. He had a split second to ponder upon why there was a clearing in a tight battle when a very muscular man with a very large and jagged sword came at him with a roar. Alan had to reinforce the ice of his blade before he used it to block the heavy hit, but the man was extremely strong and fast. Slash after slash, Alan had to deflect and parry as his opponent, who had a scruffy beard, long dark hair and a horned helmet, kept hacking at him with immense strength and momentum. Alan actually found himself having to repair the blade after every swing, since the impacts were strong enough to chip even the dark ice edge of Frig Ascutis.

An overhead slash, aimed to cleave Alan down in two, strengthened by the man's other hand as well, came at him. Alan raised his sword, being forced to grab the blade with his left hand to form a brace to take the brunt of the strike.

The impact shattered Alan's sword and the shock of suddenly being forced to lose the icy extension of his sword felt like he had just lost a limb. On impulse, Alan reached inside of him in a panic, gripping the intense sense of fear and shock and using that to fuel his magic.  
A pulse of energy exploded outwards from him in a spherical shape, going a feet in every direction, weakening rapidly. But it did what it was meant to, which was to shove the man back and prevent the slash from carrying through and cutting Alan.

Alan finally released the breath he held, his eyes wide from brushing death as he dropped the ice blade he still held in his left hand, blood dripping after the ice. His blade had cut deep into his left hand from the force, possibly down to the bone, but Frig Ascutis had frozen the gash, preventing him from bleeding profusely or from experiencing the mind-shattering pain. He simply felt an intense numbness in his left hand and the inability to move his fingers effectively as he looked up at the man, who seemed to be grinning viciously.

"Is this all the Champion of Lissandra has to offer!? Hahahaha, you're just a sniveling pup!" He shouted, guffawing with laughter. An iceborn suddenly broke out of the fray around them and came at the barbarian, but he simply stopped laughing and swung his blade, cleaving the frostguard in half. He then watched as Alan shook out of the fear gripping him, standing up again (he had fallen to one knee from the strike) as he reforged his sword, this time the blade being thicker and wider.

"I like your spunk, kid." The man said, raising his blade at Alan with one hand. "My name is Tryndamere! King of Freljord! Remember this well, as I will be the one to slay you!" Tryndamere shouted.  
Alan snorted, narrowing his eyes as he assessed the situation now that he had calmed and collected himself. Judging from the sheer muscle mass that Tryndamere possessed, it'd be impossible to beat him in direct combat. Both Reinhart and Lissandra had taught him what they each excelled at… But Reinhart could not do the ancient art of Cryomancy. Nor Could Lissandra wield a blade as effectively as he could.

They had both taught them their ways. Now, it was his turn to make something of them. By merging the two fighting styles.

Alan stuck his sword down into the snow, reaching up and taking his helmet off. It dropped into the snow beside him seconds later as Alan bared his face and white hair to Tryndamere, icy cold eyes staring at Tryndamere with a contrasting fire within them.

"My name is Alan Frost. And the only one who will be falling in this battle will be you, Tryndamere." Alan said as Tryndamere laughed. "Big talk from a small man!" Tryndamere said in his throaty voice as Alan raised his right hand.

_Form the shape. Know the structure. Feed it with your willpower. Draw the strength from the cold. Embrace the creation and pull it into reality…_

Tryndamere's grin melted off of his face and turned into shock as he watched Alan form a thick icicle, which continued to grow and refine itself until it was a seven foot long spear made of dark ice.

"You're a Cryomancer!? I thought… Your sword… But…" Tryndamere gaped. Ashe herself was a Cryomancer, but she wasn't that powerful. She could form arrows out of ice, true, but forming her trademark crystalline arrow took a lot out of her. She was a queen, he was just a boy, and yet he had just formed a spear of ice, flawless and deadly looking.

"Surprise surprise." Alan said with a small smirk as he suddenly stepped forward, bringing his arm back before chucking the spear forward with all his strength. Tryndamere had to duck to dodge the spear, which pierced the back of a war boar. Instantly, from the point of impact, the war boar and its rider froze solid, encased in dark ice, no time for them to even scream in surprise. Tryndamere turned back around to see Alan dashing towards him, the distance closed.

The barbarian king reacted only fast enough to block the diagonal upward slash, but the deflection caused a lot of dark ice to fall off the blade, making it smaller and thinner. Alan continued with his motion, turning his back to Tryndamere and only when it was too late did Tryndamere see the glint on Alan's other hand.

A crimson ribbon flew through the air, landing in the snow and staining it red as Tryndamere stumbled back, a thin slash across his chest. Alan only waited a moment, long enough for Tryndamere to see another blade, this one made entirely out of dark ice, in Alan's left hand before Alan came at him again.

This time it was Tryndamere on the defensive as he blocked each strike that Alan made. Alan suddenly brought his arms back for an overhead slash and Tryndamere brought his sword up to block the hit, but Alan drove Frig Ascutis into the ground instead, in front of Tryndamere. A moment later, Icicles erupted out of the ground all around Alan, like an explosion of razor sharp ice. Tryndamere barely managed to get away, groaning through gritted teeth in pain as his entire front side bled profusely, riddled with holes and cuts.

Alan's emotions were in too much disarray right now to be able to be harnessed right now, so Alan switched from that to his mana pool, draining it dry as he drove the sword deeper in the ground. The icicles that were protruding from the ground, each at least 5-7 feet in length and razor sharp, suddenly shot out in all directions. Everyone around him took cover behind shields, but his icicles tore through the weak wooden shields that the barbarians carried. Some didn't carry shields at all. But every time an icicle came into contact with the dark ice armor or shield that the Frostguard or Congelate Elite was wearing, it dissolved into harmless flakes of ice on impact.

Alan panted, standing up to see a pool of blood all around him, barbarians torn and impaled by the icicles he had shot were lying dead around him. He looked up in front of him to see Tryndamere lying on the ground on his back, arms and legs spread eagle, large spears of ice protruding from each limb and 3 of the icicles protruding from his torso. Blood was rapidly pooling around him as he coughed. Alan took a step forward, suddenly stumbling at the sudden weakness he suffered in his body. He felt numb all over as he slowly stumbled forwards. Tryndamere coughed up blood violently again, looking down at the ice piercing his body all over before noticing Alan walking over.

He struggled to speak, lips moving but unable to say anything coherent as blood continued to ooze out. Finally, as the last breath left his lips, he managed to say one word. "Cheater…"

Alan stared down at the man before looking up at the other Iceborn soldiers surround them, staring at him in awe. The look in his eyes confirmed it as everyone began cheering in victory, the remainder of the barbarian forces having already ran off. Alan managed a weak smile, eyes falling upon Lissandra, who was on the far side of the battle. She was looking at him, mouth slightly open in awe. Alan's smile lasted for a few more moments, until his vision suddenly swam and his feet decided to not support him anymore. He felt himself falling into the snow before everything went blank.

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**Anyways guys, I wanna apologize for the delay again. But, like I said; Life's most important exams coming up in May, and Mock Exams going on right now so I'm pretty high-strung to be able to focus on writing this. I hope I didn't disappoint with this chapter.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think of this story! Remember, every review counts. I place your thoughts, as the readers, above my own. After all, without you guys, what would we writers be? **

**-Wings.**


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